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sxnshinebag · 2 years ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚗 | 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘

| 𝘈, (𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵) 𝘍 | 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘏𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳, 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘳𝘦

| 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 |

↳ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

↳ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 - 𝘠/𝘕 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘠/𝘕 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵.

𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦.

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘠/𝘕 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.

(𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 "𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘯" 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴)

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 - 𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯 (𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬)

𝘞𝘒 - 11.3k

𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷 | 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

But the Crooked Man was sad

And once he had a thought

Why should he be crooked

When others, they were not?

"Man, this place was far," Y/N lightly whined to herself, getting out of her car. "That took almost an entire day." she grabbed her backpack and bag, feeling the familiar weight. There were multiple stops, making sure she got more supplies for her first aid kit this time and drinking many energy drinks, and one stop at a fast food place. Y/N looked up at the building in awe. "So this is the place. . .looks like this school was abandoned." she looked around for any sign of life. "No one around. Though I guess they'd be inside anyway. Let's see if I can even enter." Y/N walked to the sign in front of the door.

"Julius Stone Law School Set for Demolition - No Entry"

"Hey, this is the school from the leaflet," Y/N commented, remembering what she had read from her apartment. "Then maybe he is here after all." Y/N entered the school easily. Well, I guess there's no reason to have the entrance locked. She shrugged to herself in thought, looking around in the darkness. It wasn't that dark—she could see everything, so it was doable.

She tried to go through the door ahead of her, but it was locked. Her hope for this building to all be unlocked was crushed. Just like the hotel, she will need to find keys. Puzzles will most likely be a thing, too, if this is going to be the hotel all over again. Accepting that she'll need to find a key for this later, she went to her right down the hallway, passing by two restrooms and messing with the door of the Janitor's room. It was unlocked. Maybe the doors won't be locked in here. That was something to hope for, at least. Y/N looked around the room and noticed a scrap of paper on a counter next to one of the two closets in the corner.

"Deep fissures in the wall behind the easter bookshelves in the basement storehouse. Repairs needed."

Well, that's good to know. Y/N looked to her right and saw a notebook under the window showing how dark it was. At the front, it was a book to show a list of the faculty.

"Criminal Law: John Keith Civil Law: Andrew Robinson International Law: Cyndi Peterson Criminology: Franz Moore Philosophy of Law: Leftie Lewis Legal History: Ray Twain Comparative Jurisprudence: Euge McGuire Doctor: Stacie Lizzie"

Y/N felt her headache form from all the knowledge of the names. Maybe it'd be best if she took the book to remember the names. It wouldn't hurt, would it? Then again, maybe she didn't need the knowledge of these names. And if she did, it would be easy to come back and remind herself. Y/N walked out of the room and tried to go into the infirmary, which was the last door on this side of the wing. It was also locked.

She walked down to the other wing of the building and went into the other wing. Y/N entered the first door and realized the whole wing was a classroom. The desk closest to her had a nameplate, Stacie Lizzie, with a key next to it. And it was for the infirmary. The doctor. Maybe it was a good thing she did read the faculty book. And she should probably grab it. And looking around, she noticed a piece of paper hanging on a whiteboard.

"Notice About Keys. Room managers for the month. Don't lose the keys. Parlor: Stacie Lizzie - Reference Room: Ray Twain Lecture Halls: John Keith - Computer Room: Franz Moore Lecture Room: Cyndi Peterson - Storehouse: Euge McGuire

The other desks didn't look to have anything important, so she left the classroom to go back to the other wing. Unlocking the door, everything seemed normal. Y/N hummed, looking through the two beds and the desk. She looked at the bookshelf of medical references, but nothing seemed to yell out to her. She checked the top drawers, but there was nothing. But in the bottom right drawer, she found a parlor key.

These were all the doors she could go through, and there was nothing else. . .so she needed to go upstairs. Y/N walked the set of stairs to reach the second floor and jumped at the sight of a shadow running off. She ran fully up the stairs and down the hallway where the shadow went. "Was there someone there?" she questioned out loud. "I couldn't really see them in the dark. . ." It wasn't dark for her to need her lighter, but she could probably mistake something like that for her head messing with her.

She followed into the hallway, but there was no figure or shadow of a figure. It could've been her imagination. Y/N shrugged, telling herself it was, and messed with the first door closest to her—seeing the nameplate "Leftie Lewis" before entering. If she remembered, he was on the faculty list for philosophy. Y/N looked around, but there was nothing but a box of tools that caught her eye. In the box of tools, she grabbed all the tools she could fit in her backpack: a screwdriver, crowbar, and hammer.

This side of the floor didn't have anything to help her out besides the tools. And all the doors were locked until she reached the end of the other hallway to unlock the parlor. And behold, nothing captured her eye. Well, there was some type of thing on this desk. "I guess it's wire art or something," she answered her own question. "Not sure what it's supposed to. . .be, though." she looked at the name on the desk. "Apparently, it was made by Ray Twain. Wasn't he the lecturer for Legal History?"

Y/N sighed that she didn't find anything. But that would probably be best to give her less time to explore and more to find an answer.

On the next floor, she found Ray Twain's room first on the right. Y/N noticed some sort of diary on the table in this office. It was already opened when she went closer to it as if it was opened to a specific spot for her to read.

". . .Indeed, law too, needs a numeric representation. After all, basic things such as on or off, zero or one can represent much more complex numbers.

Using the smallest elements to produce new things is a way of thinking I hold in high esteem. Though perhaps it's more the artistic notion that captivates me more than the mathematics. . ."

She scratched her head, being fortunate that she didn't go into law school. She probably would fail the first week. Y/N left the book and turned around to a glass bookshelf, opening it to look through the books. It was more things that might hurt her brain if she continued. "Why does this law school have math books? Boy, I'm terrible at math. . ." After skimming through five books, she noticed a page in the sixth book—something about binary numbers being made up of binary digits.

Y/N gasped and realized she saw something that might be a clue to what was on his desk downstairs. It wasn't art. It was a clue. Yeah, she's definitely keeping this book straight in her backpack. Looking around some more, she saw a locked safety box with a passcode next to a desk with a turned-off computer. Was it possible that the code is something with the binary number in the other room? It was too much of a coincidence for it not to be. And it wouldn't hurt to try.

It didn't take long for her to go down to the office and read through the binary numbers to find the passcode, so it really didn't hurt to try.

2515

And there was a key to the reference room inside the box.

The next room to the other room was Franz Moore's room. And behold, another diary was on the desk with a box needing a passcode. Y/N didn't want to find a code, but if it had a key, she would need it or a place to go next. She opened the diary and kept going through it until it was the last few pages of the diary.

"I lost the note with my security box passcode... So I couldn't get into the computer room, and the headmaster got angry at me. This is the worst.

I thought I had it when I was writing for a seminar in the reference room... Maybe I left it in a book somehow? I should go look.

If I used my ID as a password like Andrew does, then I wouldn't forget, but that's risky. Of course, if you just use a random number, then you have my problem..."

"Uh. . .so this helped me with nothing," Y/N sighed, closing the diary. "And I doubt a passcode for the box is in here." it was a lost cause in this room, looking through every bookshelf and drawer and desk for a key for something different, but nothing, having her leave the room and go to the other wing after one last search of the place.

Going into the next room, Cyndi Peterson, it was way bigger than the other. Two sets of bookshelves in each corner far end. More bookshelves across the right wall and another in the corner on the left wall. Y/N went out of the room to check the nameplate next to the doors to see if this was her office or a mini library. When seeing the name for a double check, Y/N let out a whistle of shock. "Someone likes to read," she murmured, returning to the room.

She went to the table in the middle to see an open book, another diary. And the last pages of the diary for the remaining pages being blank.

"Michel's dissertation made it into an academic journal! I'm so happy for him! I knew when he joined my class he'd be a prodigy!

I also realized he and I have the same birthday! I used my birthday as a security code, so I feel like maybe I should change it...

Y/N went through the journal again to try and find a birthday, but she didn't find anything. That is kind of surprising—nothing of a complaint about teaching on her birthday or being given any birthday wishes. It was more of a work diary than a personal diary, with barely anything of praises or complaints as the last pages.

Well, she tried.

Going out into the other wing of this floor, Y/N saw the door for Andrew was locked with a passcode. This was the one who had his ID as a passcode. Would it be considered dumb of this lecturer to have his ID as a passcode? If he lost his passcode and a student found it, they could easily enter and get answers for anything.

The next room was John Keith's. Very spacious with four bookshelves at the far end left corner. Two desks, one in the middle and another against the left wall. There really wasn't anything. Full storage boxes surrounding a lock box with a passcode. "Was he trying to pack?" Y/N asked herself. They weren't even taped down. It looked as if John attempted to pack before the school shut down and said, "Fuck it," when he missed the due time to get it out.

However, if Y/N could get in easily without a key, they could've returned for their stuff.

Ah, well, it's none of her business. And luckily, there was a key to this room on the desk against the wall. Unlike the other rooms with huge diaries, there was a small notebook on the middle table.

"...Times are changing. Our existing laws cannot serve us anymore. We must surpass the 'father' of our law to find the true answer..."

"Should I be worried about this?" Y/N asked herself, going through the writing multiple for any hints of a clue for this passcode. "The father. . ." she tried to think of the "father" of the law, but nothing came to mind. She had never once studied anything similar to this, so she would have to look around for who the "father" was.

Other than that, this was the last floor for her to look around so she could go back downstairs to look for clues of these passcodes she stumbled upon. And she has a key to the reference room from one of the storage boxes. If she remembered correctly, the reference room was on the second floor. One floor down. Y/N closed the door behind her and walked toward the staircase.

Not even stepping down, a pair of hands were placed on her back and pushed down the flight of stairs. Y/N yelled and slid across the floor when landing, whimpering in pain. A light fit left her while bringing herself up to her forearms to look at the staircase to see a male with orange hair and brown eyes. He wore a light blue T-Shirt under a white jacket, dark jeans, and plain tennis shoes. What's with tonight and meeting good-looking people? Despite his good looks, he had a harsh glare across his face, looking very defensive. "Who'd you be?" he asked coldly. "What are you doing in this school, you shady punk?"

"Shady?" Y/N repeated in shock, getting up slowly to her feet—stumbling a bit but nothing bad. There was no feeling of a sprain or a twisted ankle. "I'm just looking for someone!"

The male was still defensive. "Gimme a name, or I'm calling the police on you,"

"Y/N L/N!" Y/N spoke her name, raising her hands as a surrender. "I'm looking for a guy who I think was here. I'm not a robber or anything."

"You sure?" The male asked, looking her up and down. "As if a robber would say they were one? And you have blood on you. You could also be a killer."

Y/N looked down at her clothes to notice the blood stains, wine stains, and slightly burnt parts of the fabrics. She couldn't really avoid the blood and flames if she could. It was a guaranteed thing from stabbing the monster multiple times and setting it on fire while covered in wine. "W-What do you want, a permit?" she fought back, looking up at the male. "Now, you tell me who you are if you're going to ask me!"

He looked at her a little longer. "I'm H," he introduced himself. "I graduated from this school, so I came to bring back some memories."

"H?" Y/N repeated, giving "H" a look. "That's your name? Not actually the oddest one I've heard, but—"

"It's a nickname, dummy!" H cut her off, adding an insult. "You think I'd tell some shady girl my real name?" Y/N clinched her fists in annoyance. What a little brat! she growled in her mind. "But I guess you ain't stolen anything yet. I'm just wandering around, so don't mind me. Cya."

H walked all the way down the stairs and went down to the first floor, not giving Y/N a second glance. "What the hell's his problem," Y/N huffed out. "Didn't even apologize. . .he pisses me off."

She sighed, telling herself to calm down. H wasn't worth it. They both had a bad first impression of each other, and she couldn't change that. Plus, she'll try not to bump into him much. If this is like the hotel, she won't see H much like she hasn't seen Taehyung much until the monster's attack.

Y/N walked in place a few times to shake off the pain and walked to the left wing of the building to unlock the reference room. And apparently, they call a library a reference room. Understandable, she thinks. In the first row on the left were bookcases on criminology, international law, legal history, and so on. Looking at the themes of the bookshelves, Y/N saw a book on the fair table in this corner of the reference room.

So much reading on this trip. Y/N will probably not read for a while when she heads home.

"They say that people despise those who think similarly to them or who are in similar circumstances.

But humans are curious in that they can hide any outward appearance of goodwill or hatred. Though they are two-faced deep down, they can make that idea seem unthinkable.

You may despise someone much like you,

but you may in your heart have affection for them.

The improbable is not impossible."

The book was closed, making Y/N think about what she had read. "I never understood this philosophy stuff," she admits to herself, even if she didn't need to. "Wouldn't you just dislike people you don't like?"

Y/N stayed there in deep thought but shook her head to get herself out of it. She went through the bookcases and to the desk. There was a checkout book, but there was no hidden key. Nothing on the board hanging besides announcements of new arrivals and top likes. She shuffled to the hanging picture of a man staring off with a description on the bottom.

"George Wythe (1726 - 1806) A signatory of the Declaration of Independence. He is sometimes called the father of American law for teaching the first classes in jurisprudence."

"Father of the American law, huh?" Y/N read, thinking of the notebook she read in John Keith's room. Was this the father mentioned in the notebook? Y/N knew this had to be a hint about the storage box in his room. Maybe the years could be a code. She pushed on the frame to try to see if it moved. It was securely attached to the wall, but there was a slight movement on the bottom left. Y/N grabbed the left side of the frame and pulled, but the screw kept it in place.

She did have a screwdriver from the toolbox. Taking off her backpack, she dug out the screwdriver and loosened the screw a little more so she could pull the frame a little more to look behind it.

1647

Y/N pushed the frame back against the wall to try and put it back and placed the screwdriver back in her backpack. It was slung back over her shoulders, leaving when there was nothing left for her to find.

There were no crossing paths with H yet as she made her way to John Keith's room. Y/N tried to unlock the door, forgetting it was unlocked already. She shook her head tiredly and entered the room, the key now in her hoodie pocket. Unlocking the passcode with ease, there was a key to the lecture hallway. "Isn't that the locked door across the entrance?" she asked herself, trying to remember the doors. It would make sense as the rooms she's been entering or seeing were offices, computer rooms, or reference rooms. There was only one classroom that took the whole right wing on the first floor.

Putting the lecture hallway key in her crossbody bag, Y/N made her way to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled it toward her, but a force pushed the door into her making her trip backward. Fortunately, she caught herself when her back hit the desk to not fall. But, unfortunately, a same sneer of a growl entered the air. Her breath hitched, and she looked up to see the monster in the doorway, hand on the door to keep it open wide. "H-How. . ," she whispered to herself, slowly moving to the other side of the desk to keep space. "I. . .I set you on fire—I thought I killed you!" The cling against the desk made her hand go into her pocket to feel the key.

Well, she knew what to do.

Clicking the top of her mouth, she used her other hand to grab the notebook. Dammit. . .think about it later. She told herself. It was time to escape. The monster was closing in on her while she was in thought, and she raised the notebook to chuck it into the monster's crooked head. Blindsighting it, Y/N ran around the desk and monster and was outside the room. She closed it, leaning against it with her weight, and inserted the key in the lock. The monster was pounding on the door, making it hard for her to lock the door.

But fiddling with the key to finally lock the door, Y/N took steps back, hitting the wall, as the monster kept pounding on the ground with loud yells.

Her hand went up to her ear with a winced look at the loudness. It was way louder than in the hotel. "Surely that'll keep it in," she breathed out, calming her racing heart with deep breaths. One last deep breath calmed it, but she still breathed slightly heavily. "This is way too bizarre. I mean, I. . ." she dropped her arm to her side and leaned against the wall. "And the hotel's hours away, isn't it? Could it really be. . .following me?" her hands raised palm up before rising higher to clench her hair. "Why? How?" Y/N had memories of the hotel running through. "Then again, it did attack Taehyung. So it can't be my imagination. It exists. . .monster that it is." she let go of her and looked down the path that she'd be going down. "H. . .if that monster's here, I have to warn H. Tell him he's gotta get out of here."

Well, if she passes by him. Y/N probably won't bump into H unless he bumps into her.

As much as she wanted to go looking for him, Y/N needed to do what she needed. And this place is huge so they could miss each other easily. So she could only hope they bump into each other. Y/N looked at the door one last time, still getting pounded on by the monster, and walked to the staircase.

Down to the first floor, Y/N unlocked the lecture hallway and went through. Stepping one foot in, she heard applause. She paused at the sound but walked forward to see three doors, and the sound was coming from the far-right room. Y/N walked to the lecture room and went in to see H watching something on the wall with a turned-on projector hanging on the ceiling.

Speak of the devil.

Friends, faculty, and staff. I thank you for coming today. Today is, for us, the best day of our lives. Because today, we leave the nest of our school and begin our climb to adulthood.

People applauded, but the camera stayed. Y/N walked up quietly, not wanting to disturb H, and watched it with him.

Those who passed the bar exam, those who didn't, those becoming clerks or notaries or teachers. . .all of us will be graduating from this school. And we owe a big debt to it. Though even if they managed to graduate, some of us may need to put a little more time into their studies. . .

Laughter in the background.

But these graduates have one thing in common. They're filled with hope for their future. They're ready to challenge what lies ahead. A toast to our dreams! To our yet-unsure futures! And may we have God's grace!

More applauds. And before the person on camera went on to call students for their degrees, H turned off the projector without looking. Y/N slowly walked up to him and tried to find his face. "H," she called out. But he kept looking at the blank wall. "How did you get into this lecture room? Wasn't the hallway locked?"

H looked at her with a slight turn of the head, humming in confusion. "You forget I'm a graduate here?" he asked. "I know all the secret ways, dummy.

Point taken. "Well. . .what were you listening to? A tape?" she asked, clearing her throat and not wanting to admit he was right.

"Yeah," H nodded, looking back at the wall. "From my graduation day. Man, has it really been three years?" a small smile lay across his face. "I was getting nostalgic for the place. . .and even abandoned; it really hasn't changed. It's just like it was when I was taking classes. Studying was wearing me out. . .so I came here for a breather. It's nice to have places full of memories like this."

"You graduated, but you're still studying?" Y/N furrowed her brows together.

"Hey, lay off it," H glared at her, finally facing her fully. "Yeah, I couldn't pass the bar exam. . .so I'm cramming at home now. Next up's gonna be my sixth attempt. There were lots of great guys in my class. Most of 'em passed it in one shot." his eyes faltered to the ground. "Being a lawyer's been my dream since I was a kid. So I was so happy when I got accepted here. Felt I was one step closer to making it come true. The work was rough, and I just barely managed to graduate. . .I think it's my kind, helpful professors that did it." H paused, looking at the white wall with determination in his eyes. "I'll pass next time for sure. I mean, it's my sixth time. . .any more, and I'll be way behind my classmates."

Y/N licked her lips, telling herself to warn him. "Well, it's good to be motivated, but it's dangerous here," the words went out after pushing herself. "You should get out of here soon."

H turned to her, looking at her as if she was going crazy. "Dangerous?"

"It's sort of hard to explain," Y/N moved her hands around as if it'd explain better. "There's kind of a. . .monster here. It'll attack you if it finds you."

That didn't help her; H only looked at her a little longer. "I thought you were just some weird old woman wandering an abandoned school, but damn, you really are nuts," he remarked. "Seriosuly, a monster? Even little girls don't believe that stuff! You're being a total doofus."

Her fingers rolled into a ball again with a clench. "Do you enjoy making fun of people?" she fumed, voice wavering slightly. "And I don't think I'm much older than—"

"Don't try and debate with me, alright?" He spoke over her, testing her. "I'm a talented soon-to-be lawyer! You'd be no match for me!"

It was hopeless. "Do what you want," she surrenders, straightening her hands out. Y/N had to take a breath to calm herself down. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, I will do that, thanks," he responded snarkily. "Like I need a shady punk like you telling me what to do around my alma mater." H bumped his shoulders against hers and left the room.

"Hey Jane," Y/N called to her best friend. "I. . .I got in."

Jane's eyes widened in shock and happiness. "Wha?! Really?!" she smiled brightly, grabbing Y/N's arm. "You got in? To flight school?!" Y/N nodded with slight tears of happiness peeking through. "That's crazy, Y/N! I can't even do a handstand! You can really do it if you try, man!"

"Thanks," Y/N chuckled, almost sobbing. "But it doesn't make me a pilot yet. Still have to pass the exam."

"Man, dude! You totally will be!" Jane assured with hope. "And make sure to gimme a ride! I'd love to fly above a city sometime."

"Jane," Y/N called her friend's name, grabbing her arm with both hands to try and get her back. "I'm not going to fly passenger planes! It's not that kind of school!"

Jane used her free hand to cover Y/N's mouth. "Don't sweat the details," she shushed. "I'm glad for you! You did good. Hey, I'll take you to lunch today!"

Y/N stared at the blank wall, getting back to now. "Back then, I wasn't really thinking," she remembered aloud. "I was just going wherever I wanted. Maybe H is like that, too." she realized what she was doing and lightly slapped the temple of her head. "Stop thinking about the past—"

Hyping herself up, she looked around the room for anything. It was a standard room, but something caught her eye on a small pinboard. A ripped piece of newspaper was pinned in front of everything. The topic of the week. . .and there was a picture of a male. Michel Statham. His birthday was June 19th, twenty-years-old, and he lived in Marvel Hill—birthday!

This was the student who shared the same birthday as Cyndi!

After checking out the lecture hallway, she'll be going to Cyndi's room straight away. Y/N nodded to herself after repeating the birthday over and over till it was tattooed on and left the lecture room. The doors in the middle were painted over, and the doors on the far left were locked. Heading upstairs, Y/N stopped in motion when seeing a scrap of a notebook page lying in the middle of the hallway. She slowly walked up to it and knelt down. "The rule matches the other pages," she uttered. "So he was here. . ."

"Many hopes were fulfilled here. Many youths were blessed. But I didn't receive that blessing.

What's the problem with me? Who refused to pick me and left me in the dust? I loathe those meaningless days."

Y/N stood up, reading the paper again. "He had a leaflet for this school," she remembered. "It was in the desk. . .felt like it was important. Was he trying to be a lawyer like H was?" she frowned, putting the paper in her crossbody bag. "I guess this would imply he didn't become one." zipping the bag close, she attempted to open the left doors. Painted over. But she was able to go through the right door.

Nothing there.

So she made her way to Cyndi's room and unlocked the safety box after having to think a few seconds about what the birthday was despite repeating it a million times in her head when reading it.

A key to the lecture rooms.

Her lips blew a raspberry, and she walked out of the room. "What a waste of time," she grumbled, jogging down the steps. "Why couldn't this key be with the key to the lecture hallway?" She kept complaining about it, but she knew it wouldn't fix anything. She grumbled under her breath until it went away the second she unlocked the door to the left. It was the only locked door in the lecture hallway. It was the same as the other lecture room, but a piece of paper was on the blackboard.

"Seminar at 9/21 in the Auditorium 'Crime Among the Impoverished and Its Prevention'

Ivan Abelitsev's 'Criminal Behavior: A Psychological Approach' will be referenced, so be sure to read it before coming! -Franz Moor, Professor of Criminology"

She shrugged, thinking it was nothing, before looking around some more. Y/N jumped slightly when hearing something fall to her right, turning to see a scrap of notebook paper under a board with a calendar and small announcements. Was it there before? That was strange. She slowly walked to the notebook paper and picked it up. "Same as the others," she said, furrowed eyebrows when looking back and forth at the board and paper. "Did it actually fall, or am I just crazy? Too much of a coincidence to fall the moment I stopped reading the announcement."

"I knew there was something I lacked. But I didn't want to admit it. My ambitious youthfulness wouldn't let me.

I wanted someone to say it. I wanted to be woken up. . . To be told I'm a have-not."

"Something you lacked. . .a have-not," she reread the words that came to her the most. Her fingers lightly touched the page, moving it through. "It's true. . .there are haves and have-nots. People whose dreams can come true, and—" She was cut off by her head ringing, hands instinctually going up to her temples. A-Again?! she whimpered in pain, pushing into her head more to try and get it away. Fortunately, it only lasted a few seconds, making her slowly let go and sigh in relief. "Finally, it—" something didn't feel right, making a cold shiver go down her spine. But it wasn't feeling that caused the shiver. It was a breath.

Y/N really didn't want to turn around. . .but she did. And the monster was standing inches away from her, sending an attack, a hand gripping around her neck and tightening more, causing her to bring her hands up and wrap around its wrist.

"D-Damn. . .monster!" she was trying to pull its hand away. "Why. . .are you. . .chasing. . .me?" Her vision was getting hazy, and she was trying to keep one eye open. But the monster was squeezing tightly.

And she fell. Vision blackened when she fell forward—faceplanting the ground. Y/N groaned, coughing to get oxygen back. Her mouth was open, and saliva was dripping down. She coughed some more, feeling like she was going to hurl. Back moving like a cat in an attempt to puke out a hairball.

But nothing was coming out.

I'm. . .I'm alive? Y/N raised her head up and looked around the monster. The monster's gone. . .I thought it would kill me. . .but it left? She cursed in her mind, staggering up to her feet. "My neck," she moaned, attempting to touch her beck. But she recoiled her hand when a bare touch stung. "I feel so. . .sluggish." she shook her head to keep herself up. "I haven't really slept since yesterday. . .I should try and rest somewhere."

The steps were slow, but she kept herself going to the infirmary room. The doors had taken a lot of her energy, needing to pull with her whole body or push her side into the door of the infirmary. But she had gotten into the bed, molding against the mattress and pillow. "I'll take a little nap," she whispered, more for herself. "Pushing myself wouldn't be a good idea." the bed or pillow wasn't comfortable, but it was all she had.

It wasn't hard going into dreamland.

"Mom?! Are you. . .crying again? Sorry, I can't do a thing. . .I can't even console you."

Y/N opened her eyes, blinking a few times to get the blurriness away from her vision. Yeah. . .mom always cried in the living room. She responded to the dream in her mind. After I'd gone to bed at night. . .that was when I was a kid, though. She rolled to her back and pushed herself up into a sitting position, raking her fingers through her hair. Well. . .I'm feeling better now. Should get going again.

Thinking through what she had done before the attack of the monster, she remembered the paper on the blackboard. A book on Criminal Behavior was mentioned, so that might have to be where she needs to go next. Y/N stayed a few seconds on the bed before getting out and walking to the reference room. She already knew where the books on criminology were. She just needs to look through the books for the one reference book. Her finger went across the spines of the books a couple of times before seeing the title.

She took out the book and opened it from the beginning. It was hard to understand any of it, but she was flipping page by page till there was a flop of multiple pages at once, making her stop—going back to the pages to see a slip of paper, causing the pages to fall from under her thumb.

9981

No doubt this was for the security box in Franz's room.

Y/N put the book back into the bookcase, keeping the slip of paper in her hand, and walked out to the room on the top floor. Fortunately, her prediction was correct, and it opened without a problem. She raised the top and saw a key to the computer room. Great, she is almost done getting all the doors unlocked.

The key stayed in her hand when she made her way down the stairs and to the doors of the computer room. Unlocking it, she noticed two rows of six computers with a walkway in the middle. None of them were turned on, even if she tried to. In the far left corner, there was a black laptop. Y/N tried to turn it on, but it had no power. Was there really nothing in here? The last thing she could check was the trashcan in the opposite corner. She fished through crumbled papers reading each carefully, and stopped at a familiar name. Andrew Robinson. The lecturer with the ID as a passcode. And luckily, the ID number was under his name. It should be the room next door, too.

This room wasn't useless after all.

A hum of satisfaction left her lips, and she stood up. Y/N placed the key back in her bag with the paper, staring at the essay example while walking to the door.

Ahem. . .Friends, faculty, and staff, I thank you for coming today.

The room had somehow gotten darker than it already was. Y/N turned around in fear, seeing the laptop turned on and changing different colors crazily. Why was it playing a familiar voice in her past?

We're glad to have a sunny graduation to start off the rest of our lives. The future may be uncertain for some, but the persistence we learned here will make us resolute!

A round of applause for my fellow graduates!

Y/N slowly took a step forward when hearing the applause, wondering what was going on. The laptop had no power—she couldn't turn it on!

However, as valedictorian, there's something I can't help but lament. . .

It's about Y/N L/N.

She was highly skilled, kind to us all, and admired by pupils and teachers alike.

We all expected she would be proudly stand with us this morning to graduate.

But our hopes were dashed. . .

By none other than the woman herself!

Hiding behind an innocent face, she's been fooling all her pupils and professors!

Let me ask you all this. Should she be forgiven? Can she escape punishment for betraying her friends and mentors?

The crowd booed at the question. "No," she whispered, unconsciously moving her hand slowly to unzip her backpack with little space. "Stop."

I didn't think so.

She should forever be punished for what she has done to grant her selfish dreams!

Walls around here dripped red, inking down to the floor and rising up to the computers. Y/N spun around fast, trying to get away from the color, but now she was covered in red. Her free hand went up to her head, almost falling to her knees. Bones were shaking inside her, not wanting to hear this anymore. "Please. . .stop."

You're the lowest of low. . . Your dreams will never come true.

What are you even good for?

. . .Go off and die somewhere!

Coward!

The yells and applause were getting louder, not leaving her head, and the word "DIE!" surrounded the room. Even closing her eyes wouldn't get rid of it.

"Stop. . ," Groaning in frustration, she ran to the computer, and the hammer in her hand swung into the screen of the laptop as a baseball bat. "I said stop!" her shoulders were rising and falling with her breaths. "No! I'm. . .I'm not a coward!" liquid welling up in her eyes and dripping down. "I. . .I just."

Her head came back to what was around her, and she realized the hammer in her hands. Y/N looked around her to see the room back to normal. Her hands shakily pulled the hammer off the laptop and dropped it into her backpack, zipping it up with slight trouble. Now she was only staring at the screen. "I heard a scream. . .that was you?" H's voice appeared, but she didn't flinch. "Geez, you made me freak." the door closed, and footsteps walked closer to her. "What's the big idea, huh? Did something happen?"

"Forget about it," Y/N shook her head, not thinking it was worth telling him what happened. He already thought she was crazy for the monster thing. "Sorry to startle you. . .it's nothing."

"H-Hey, dude. . .you okay?" H stuttered for a split second, walking up to her. "You're super pale."

"I'm just kind of tired," Y/N said honestly, raising her hands to her face to try and rub the tiredness away. "I came a long way. . .and I haven't slept. Leave me alone. I can't be bothered to talk." her voice was muffled through her hands.

The silence made her feel a bit better. "Have this," H offered, but Y/N didn't remove her hands. "I already had a little, but it's an energy drink. Drink up."

Y/N removed her hands to see H holding out a drink. "Seriously?" she looked at the drink and up at H. "I don't need this. . .I told you, leave me be."

"Drink it!" H exclaimed, holding the drink closer to her. "Geez. You really look like you need food and drink! And I'm being nice, so at least accept it, will ya?"

She sighed, taking the drink after consideration. "Alright, thanks," She now looked at the drink in her hand. "But what's all this from the guy who was calling me a shady punk?"

"Mostly 'cause you look like crap," H answered with no hesitation, getting a look from Y/N. "Come on. It's not like I'm heartless. I mean, I am trying to be a lawyer. Besides, maybe it's fate! Tell you what, I won't call you shady anymore. Now cheer up. You could be my client once I'm a lawyer!"

A small chuckle left Y/N. "That's a quick turnaround," she commented. "I'm grateful, at any rate." Y/N opened the cap and took a sip, feeling better. A thought entered her head. "Say, have you seen anyone else around? Particularly a man about my age?"

H watched her take another drink before answering, "Nope, nobody. He's who you're looking for?"

"Yeah," Y/N nodded, removing the rim from her lips. "Though I don't really know how he looks. . .tell me if you see him, okay?"

"You got it," H promised. "Doubt anybody'd be around here, though." his eyes showed a reminder to himself. "Oh, but can I ask something too?" Y/N nodded again, taking another swig of the drink. "Professor Andrew, he always helped me out—his room's on the third floor. But it's got a number lock, so I can't get in. I was thinking the professor might still have some lecture notes for me around something. . .but, yeah, tell me if you get it open, okay?"

That's doable. "Alright, got it," she agreed. She was going there next, anyway.

"I'll wander around some more, then," H informed. "You look like hell, so don't push yourself."

"Yeah, well. . .you be careful too," Y/N pointed at him with the now empty bottle. "If you see any monsters, get away!"

H rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, sure. I've got a knife to defend myself anyhow. Cya."

And gone he was. Y/N looked at the door and down at the empty bottle in her hand. "Maybe he's not as bad as I thought," she smiled lightly, walking to the other corner and tossing the bottle in the trash can.

Y/N went to the top floor and punched the ID into the passcode. Looking around, there was nothing but a diary on the desk against the wall next to the bookcase. Well, even if there was nothing, she still had this door open for H to come in when he needed to.

"Finally done with the finals! I'm glad everyone got their appropriate grades. Of course, there's that lone H. . .

I teach him so much, but he doesn't even get the basics. He's lagging behind everyone else. And yet he's so intent on being a lawyer. . .

That nickname 'H' stands for 'Hope.' Apparently, it was given to him for having such an impossible dream. . . But if you ask me, it's for hopelessness.

I hate how he fawns over me, too. I practically have to act nice to him, and he always comes for lessons after school. . . I wish I'd never let him in my class."

Y/N stared at the diary. Especially at the word "Hopelessness." A frown stretched across her lips. "This is about H?" she asked the obvious. "It's awful that he'd say this about a student. Though maybe H really is that bad." her hand placed on the page. "If H saw this. . .it'd be a big shock for him. He said he respected his professor and always tried so hard. . ." and the page was ripped off. "There. . .wouldn't want H coming in and finding this."

She walked out of the room and placed the paper in her bag when walking down the hallway, stopping at the sound of another footstep with her. Looking up, she froze at the sight of the monster walking down the hallway. Its back was facing her. That monster's still wandering around. . .is it looking for me since it couldn't kill me? She thought, watching it enter a room.

Her feet quickly ran down the stairs to the first floor to avoid the monster. Y/N leaned against the wall next to the staircase. She had unlocked every room she could. So the only place she hadn't checked was the basement. It wasn't as if she didn't notice it. She never had a reason to go down there. But now she has a reason. And going down the stairs, the air felt different than the rest of the building.

The door to the right was unlocked, but she couldn't help but have a bad feeling about this the moment her hand wrapped around the doorknob. She prepped herself up and opened the door for whatever she'd seen.

And there laid H in the middle of the room, and there was heavy fog. "H!" she ran into the room and knelt next to him. "Hey, H! What's wrong?!" she tried to shake him. "Get up!"

H tried to get up. "My. . .head," he groaned, falling back to the ground. "Feel like. . .crap."

"Now that you mention it," she brought her hand to her mouth, covering a forced cough, looking around the room. "It's a little hard to breathe—what's going on here?!"

"It's. . .gas," H hacked out. Y/N felt stupid asking this question the moment he answered. "The floor's. . .leaking gas. ..you gotta. . .get out."

"As if I'm leaving without you," Y/N reached out to H, helping him up to his feet. "Get up; lean on my shoulder." H leaned his whole weight onto her, making her grunt. She dragged him to the door, trying to open it. But when it was cracked open, it got pushed shut. Y/N tried to open it, but it was locked. A chuckle on the other side made her grit her teeth. "It's here?! Not gonna let us go?!" she let out a heavy cough. "This gas is pouring in. . .I have to be quick." she set H down on the wall.

She looked around, trying to find anything to get them out. The breaker was no use, and the security box wouldn't open. What was this room even? A storage room? Very spacious for a storage room. Another cough left her body when she tried to push boxes to the side. In the corner of the room were random items, only an iron pipe that seemed to be deemed the only thing useful right now. There really wasn't anything to get them out the door, even if she tried to hit the iron pipe into the door. Y/N was pulling everything off the wall to try and see if she could do anything.

And she pulled the third closet away from the wall and saw a crack in the wall. Y/N raised the iron pipe and pounded it into the wall five times before it broke apart enough for both her and H. She dropped the iron pipe and ran to H. Y/N pulled her shirt over her nose before she grabbed him and helped him up to his feet. "Come on," she uttered, getting him through the hole. The gas had leaked into the other room, another reference room, maybe. Y/N thought about going through the door, but the monster was most likely roaming around. That's a death wish.

So the answer is the elevator. It would go to the reference room on the second floor, the only elevator she noticed in the school. Y/N placed H against the wall and tried to open it with her hands. But it wouldn't budge. She took off her backpack and rummaged through, taking the crowbar and inserting it between the doors. Y/N began to pull hard until she opened the elevator enough for the two. A tough fit, but enough. The crowbar was left on the ground as Y/N picked up her backpack and grabbed H.

Inside the elevator, it showed no power. But boxes were stacked up to guide her eyes to a door in the ceiling. An emergency escape. "H, you're going to have to help me," she coughed out, helping him up the stacks of boxes. Her hands went around his foot and pulled him up, staggering too much, and pushed up from her chest when he was having trouble getting himself up. Y/N shook her arms and jumped up, hanging for a few seconds, and pulled herself to the ceiling.

And her next challenge was climbing the ladder with an almost passed-out H. She got herself up to her feet and pulled H up drowsily. "We're almost there," she spoke hopefully, trying to keep a cough down. "Can you climb up?" H let out a groan but nodded nonetheless. "Climb first, I'll be. . .underneath." she brought H to the ladder, seeing him miss the ladder a few times before grabbing it. Y/N waited a split second before getting on the ladder, hovering behind him. She ignored her body and head against his lower back, keeping him from falling back. Maybe a bit dangerous, but this is how it is.

Fortunately, the elevator opened from the inside when Y/N reached over H's shoulder. Very dangerous to do, two people in the same spot on the ladder, but it was at the back of her mind. She had H get to the floor first, and she climbed out on her hands and knees. Her shirt was dragged off her face, panting and gasping for the somewhat fresh air; moving back to sit between her calves. "We. . .managed to e-escape," she declared to herself, sighing in relief between deep pants. Her attention went to H. "Hey, H! Are you okay?" she crawled to him and shook him, but he wasn't moving. Breathing but not moving. "I'll get you to the infirmary. . .hang in there."

Y/N dragged a rolling chair from the desk next to H, who lay in the bed. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, looking over him again. "You don't want to go to a hospital? What if you got poisoned?"

"I'm fine," H let out a breathless laugh but groaned while placing a hand on his head. "Head hurts like hell, and I feel gross, but I'll get better." he let his arm fall on the bed and moved it under the blanket before looking over at Y/N. "Thanks, man. I'd be screwed without you around. . .I owe you my life!" H turned his head back flat on the pillow when grimacing in pain. "There's water storage in the basement, and I once heard about it leaking gas. . .only just remembered that now. It was after I graduated, so I dunno for sure, but I think there was a dispute over the property. So the school moved, and this got abandoned."

So that's why the school is abandoned. "I see," Y/N looked out the window to see the dark sky. "But you really shouldn't have come if you knew it was dangerous."

H looked at Y/N and away with a blush. "Sh-Shut up," he weakly said. "I just sort of forgot, okay?" His chest raised highly and lowered back down. "Man, to think all this'd happen when I just came here to relax. . .shoulda just stayed at home studying."

"It's good to get a breather, sure," Y/N nods to his idea of being here. "Just not in abandoned ruins, okay?" she paused a little before going on. "That's really something something, though. You're still studying three whole years after you graduated?"

"Well, I always wanted to be a lawyer. . .ever since I was a kid," H murmured his small story, turning to have his back facing Y/N. "No matter what, I will be a lawyer! So I kept studying, and I still do. . .and there's no changing my mind!" he moved slightly as if thinking to turn but stayed facing away. "You're awesome yourself. . .climbing the elevator with my weight on you? You're buffer than you look."

"I. . .never thought to be that strong," Y/N softly said. "But I did go to flight school."

"Serious?" H quickly turned to face her, pain covering his face, but he ignored it. "That's awesome! Really can't judge a book by its cover. . ."

Y/N shook her head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. "But anyway," she was on her way to change the subject quickly. "It's all kinds of dangerous here. . .and I'm not looking after you anymore."

H chuckled. "I know, I know," he said. "Well, it was nostalgic and refreshing while it lasted. I'll just rest here a little and go."

"You do that," Y/N nodded at him, getting up from her seat. "I'll be going."

She waved him goodbye and went to the door. "Hey! Wait a sec," H called out, making Y/N turn to see him getting out of bed. "You dropped something!" He walked to the paper and picked it up. "Here, you—" his eyes went to the paper and began to read. "Wait, what? This looks like Professor Andrew's writing. Why'd you have this?" Y/N tried to reach out to him and tell him not to read it. H turned around to keep her from grabbing the paper if she tried to. "Hope? It's for. . .hopelessness?" his body still faced away from Y/N. "Hey. . .what's this about? How. . .why did the professor. . .this is. . .how he really felt?" Y/N stayed in her spot, but she heard the crumble of paper. "But you. . .supported me. You said I'd be a lawyer someday. . .that's what you told me!" she slowly walked up to him, hands raised out. But H turned around, tears down his cheek, and ran out of the room.

"That guy," Y/N breathed out through her nose. "He's in no condition—and that monster is bound to find him."

That's when she knew she had to go after him.

Y/N ran through the first floor in an attempt to find H, but he wasn't there. She ran through the lecture halls and tried to see him in the two lecture rooms on the first floor, but he wasn't there. On the second floor, he was in the auditorium. Relief dreaded through, and she jogged up to H, whose back was facing her. "H. . .thank goodness," she let out, about to reach and touch his shoulder.

"I always knew," H spoke softly, making Y/N freeze in her movement and bring her arm down. "At least that I wasn't a genius or anything. . ." he turned to face Y/N, tears still going down from his eyes, but his facial features were blank. "But why didn't they just say it? I respected Professor Andrew. 'Cause he always supported me." his emotions were slowly flooding in. "Sure, I'm kind of dumb. I've been teased constantly for it. I failed the damn test five times! I'm a failure!" Y/N looked down at his hands, which were turning into fists. "But aren't I free to hope?! I've always dreamt of being a lawyer! That's why I still study so hard. . ." his head lowered, turning away from Y/N, but his nails still dug further into his palms. "Why did it have to be like this/ Was everything I did. . .for nothing? I don't know what to do anymore."

"But that's life, isn't it?" Y/N responded to him with a question, not stopping or thinking about what she was saying.

"What?" H turned back around, looking at Y/N with a glare.

"Just looking at you kind of irritates me," Y/N admits, more to herself than to H. But she was already going down this road of her words. Might as well push it. "Maybe it reminds me too much of myself." her eyes sent a similar glare, but softer. "You need to wake up. Aren't there enough hopeless idealists in the world as it is?"

"You shut the hell up!" H cried out. "Yeah, I'm stupid, but I'll keep studying!"

"Everyone's lacking in something or another," Y/N pushed more. "In your case, it was intelligence." she didn't think about it when reading the notebook, but she knew it reminded her too much of her past.

"You. . .goddamn," he grits his teeth. "You want a piece of me?!"

"In my case," a hand raised to one of Y/N's E/C eyes. "It was my eyes." H stopped and looked at Y/N in confusion about her words. "Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a pilot. I studied hard and made it to flight school. But. . .I was colorblind." she removed her hand and stared at it. "Strange, isn't it? Just a few colors you can't see, and suddenly you have no right to fly. . ." her hand dropped, looking at H. "It seems obvious to me now. But. . .back then, I just couldn't accept it. So I. . .I faked my vision results to get into the school. I spent three years playing innocent. Even managed to be an honors student. But. . .I was found out. On the day of the pilot exam, no less. That day, I was reduced from an honors student to a filthy traitor. I dropped out, and. . .now I'm just a nobody clerk. I don't mind if you still want to be a lawyer. But I just want to say something. Don't trap yourself by narrowing the road."

"Ain't it rough?" H asked, voice going in and out. "Wasn't it. . .your childhood dream?"

"It certainly was hard," Y/N confirmed. "It still is. But looking at you. . .I realized it's not much, but I make my own money. I got a boyfriend—" she hopes, at least. "—I drink with my buddy on weekends. . .and I enjoy my life for what it is. I didn't want to recognize I'd been set back. But I can't deny where I am now. Nor all the work I put in back then."

"Are you happy with what you have now?" H asked more, looking more curious each second.

Y/N thought about the question and ended up nodding. "Yes, though I didn't quite notice it," she said after thinking more about his question. "My life is how I choose it to be. So I shouldn't regret it. How about you?"

H kept staring at her and around the room as if he was in his head. However, he turned away from her to keep her from seeing his emotions. "I won't give up," he declared. "Becuase. . .because it's always been my dream. . .to be a lawyer."

"I see. . ,"

"I'll. . .I'll," H tried to find his words, letting out a sigh. "Just one more time. I'll try the bar exam." he still wouldn't look at her, as if he was more talking to himself. "But if I fail, that's it! I made up my mind! I'll give up for good then, but it won't mean those three years were a waste." he finally looked at Y/N. "Right, Y/N?"

"Is there any point in staying here?" she answered with a question instead. "Let's go. I'll take you home if you want."

"Yeah, thanks," H walked up to her, finally ready to go home. Y/N gave him a crooked smile, him smiling back at her with ease, and Y/N turned around to walk toward the door. But she stopped with one step, seeing the door open and a familiar figure. "Y/N? What's up?" he looked around her, and he as well froze. "W. . .what? H-Hey, Y/N!"

"H, get out of the school," Y/N instructed, keeping her eyes on the monster. "I'll keep him away, got it?" she brought her arm behind her to unzip her backpack. "He's chased me. . .who knows how many miles. It's me this monster is after. I'll take care of it."

"A-Alright,"

Y/N finally gripped whatever it was in her backpack and pulled it to. The hammer. "You just won't die, will you," she spoke up for the monster to hear. "I'll finish you off this time!" the monster roared back at her and ran at them. Y/N raised the hammer like a bat and swung it into the monster's arm. "Go, H! Now!"

H stared at Y/N a little longer and ran out.

Outside the school, H walked back and forth for so many minutes, worried about who will come out. from the two. "Y/N," he uttered into his hand, stopping and looking at the door. "You're so damn slow. . .Are you sure you're alright?" he grumbled to himself, trying to make a decision in his head. "Dammit." he made up his mind. "Hang on, Y/N! I'll save you!" He started a jog to the door, but it swung open with Y/N coming out with blood staining her face lightly and staining more on her clothes. H stumbled back at the image. "S-Startled me, dude!" he gave her a glare and stepped back for space. "You okay? Did you finish that thing off?"

"Yeah, I hope I did. . .I kept using the hammer till it stopped moving," Y/N briefly described what had happened. "Probably shouldn't have dropped it, though. I don't want to go back in there. I don't think it's done for yet. . .I feel like it'll come back."

"What do you mean again?"

"Didn't I tell you already?" Y/N raised a brow, using a bloody hand to push a piece of hair out of her eyes. "It followed me all the way from a distant hotel. . .I don't think this is over yet."

H blinked a few times. "I-I don't get it, dude," he admits. "But, er, you going somewhere now?"

"I'd like to, but I don't have a destination," Y/N shrugged. "The guy I'm looking for wasn't here, so I don't know where he could be. . ." her adventure just might be over.

"Hey, hold on," H dug into the pocket of his white jacket. "I actually found this earlier!" he brought out a folded piece of paper, bringing it out to Y/N. "Any help?" Y/N grabbed it and unfolded it to see an address. "I found it in the basement." she looked back up at H after reading it three times. "The paper looks pretty new, so. . .thought you just dropped it."

"Place of regret," Y/N read for the fourth time, looking back down at the paper. "And an address?" And now at H again. "Do you know what kind of place this is?"

"No clue," H shook his head. "But I think it's pretty far from here. It'd take about a day to drive." this handwriting looks the same as the scraps in her bag and the other pieces of papers of addresses she's gotten before. "I think I'll check this out." she gave him a slight bow of her head. "So long."

Y/N walked around him and to her car. "H-Hold on!" H called out, running to her before she got to her vehicle. "You said you're looking for. . .who, exactly? Ain't it dangerous driving around this late? Why you wanna meet him?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure myself," Y/N folded the paper and pushed it into her hoodie pocket. "Though. . .I have sort of an excuse. My point is it doesn't matter why I want to meet him. It's just. . .right now; it feels like I have to. I have to go." she turned her head to H. "Is your house far? I'll take you there."

"Don't worry about it," he waved her off. "I can handle myself fine."

"Okay," Y/N tried to wave him goodbye this time. "Be careful, then."

And she walked around her car to grasp the handle. "Hoseok!" H called out, running to her again. Y/N looked at him in confusion. "My name. It's. . .Hoseok. I trust you now. . .so you know my name."

"Well, thanks for trusting me," Y/N gave him another crooked smile. "Nice to meet you, Hoseok."

Hoseok gave her a tight smile. "If. . .we meet again," he went on before Y/N could pull the handle. "You wanna. . .have a drink or something?"

"Of course," she accepted the offer without a thought. "I look forward to it. "

Scene 2

"Julius Stone Law School - H -”

End

#sanhadaze #sanhadaze update #sanhadaze post #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts #jung hoseok #hoseok #bts hoseok #j-hope #jhope #bts jhope #the crooked man

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mysowa · 2 years ago

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cookietastic · 4 months ago

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Quirin will teach you how to throw a punch at someone twice your size Eug will teach you to scale a wall when on the run

Oh the things I would do to see see Varian getting some blade training from Eugene and Quirin only for him to realize they both have very different ways about going about this

#need this so badly ��

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louistomlinsonyear · 5 years ago

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today is one of my favorite people in this fandom's birthday: @phoenixvinyl. you're a legend for many reasons, and you put up a baddie front, but you're such a softie and thank god u didnt freaked me out enough when we first met and allowed me to be ur friend and thank baby louis for bringing us closer for manyyyy reasons! I find a sister in you and im so glad to have you in my life, demon te amo con todo mi corazon ♡ feliz cumpleanos ♡

#euge #hoe shares her birthday w walls #as if she was baddie enough

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sassyfrassboss · 2 years ago

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Harry and Meghan Netflix special.

Episode 1 Notes:

1. From the outset we are told this is a first hand account, using footage from their own archives. And members of BRF have declined to comment.

2. For some ridiculous reason, first scene is at an airport arrivals lounge. Private jet Harry's documentary starts with scenes from a commercial airport. Lol. Appary he has just landed at London in March 2020. Probably traumatic because this was the first time they had to take commercial lol

3. It's quite evident that this started as a video diary (Meghan's idea?) around March 2020. Way before they finalized the netft deal. So ...this is how they pitched to platforms? This is the behind the scenes look? Scheming bastards.

4. They are addressing all the little criticism - private jets. How little she knew of Harry. Media scrutiny. Archie. How she gave up everything to marry him and then he voluntarigave up his life to join her world.

5. There is a LOT of footage of the kids. Basicat it's their iPhone gallery made into a movie with piano music.

6. She and her friends really overexplai. That she was single "SINGLE" for a couple of months in summer 2016. And travelly the world with her girlfriends. And that those trips were planned to enjoy the world. Girl doth protest a bit too much.

7. Oh btw they met on Instagram. Lol new twist. And she got to know his through his ig feed. Lol. He is photographer ok guys. And he asked to meet her. So not a blind date.

8. They also show their private chats. URghhhh!

9. Harry is such a doofus. All he wanted was to get married and that's a bit creepy ok. It comes across as if he would have married anyone.

10. Nacho is there. URghhhh

11. Meghan didn't know him guys, at all. Did not know anyone. But told all her friends. Hahaha... And they are all here telling us she didn't know. Hahaha... And well... it would all be cute but it's them. So Diana is mentioned a few times. We get to know about their first meeting. And then it cuts to commentary from the day Harry was born, and how special Diana was and how everyone loved baby Harry. Sneaky!

12. We see a lot of footage of innocent diana talking about Harry and Harry doing cute stuff. Just in case we forget. Harry says he doesn't have early memories of his mom. But, dear viewers, we do, right? So that's more important. We all loved Diana.

13. Everybody who has ever spoken/written anything favorable about the couple is in this series. Noone who could present the other side. It seems a bit glaring.

14. So much royal footage. So much of the queen. If she was alive she definitely would have been offended at this. I'm sure. This is disrespectful. Because it makes it seem like "Meghan against the institution". Instead of Harry and Meghan the lovestruck couple.

This is the undertone that I think Meghan may have wanted to distance herself from.

15. When Harry talks about his childhood it does make a but of sense, esp with the skiing footage and Eug and Bea look overwhelmed.

16. He says what she shared in panorama was her experience and truth. Even if it was obtained in the wrong way.

17. Harry is such a simp. Meghan tries to be, but personally she seems like she is overacting even in their old home videos and facetimes. How is that possible?? And Harry says she is so simar to his mum. ewww... the mommy issues!

18. Lol there really are Diana's pictures on the wall in a tiara in the nursery. Didn't Harry hace any private pictures of her he can show his children because this was literally from a magazine photoshoot. WTH!

19. When he talks about his mum's death, they show a photo of the two brothers. With William looking at Harry, and Harry staring into space. That's heartbreak. Truly. The only time I wished the brothers were still close. What would Will think if he sees this??

20. This episode does a good job at presenting Harry's childhood issues. And his fears. He seems self aware. And you empathise with him up to that point. But then I wonder, with all of this, how could Meghan make this whole thing about herself?? His problems are real and massive and he had so much support. And she and him, they make this all about her not being able to adjust and how unfair it was for her to leave everything behind (for all of 1.5 yrs lol).

21. I think, this maybe one of the reasons that Meghan hasn't liked this series. We get to know the Harry that we liked and loved and thought we knew. It makes her feel.like a nobody. And he overcompensates ofr that constay. But the showrunners, director, Netflix won't overcompensate. They tell us who us the more valuable one.

22. Harry is White Knight-ing in Africa. You know, the wayward, heartbroken lad who just wants some warmth and acceptance... It's a bit much, this narrative. esp in these times. This impression of Africa the land of authenticity and finding yourself, even if true, is something we should all avoid now.

23. Harry's issues are so obviously here, I believe if Meghan hadn't come along he might have stayed on the straight and narrow. She didn't value and respect his heritage. And he mirrored her to be able to keep her. (My opinion from this episode)

24. Whenever Lindsay Roth speaks, I feel like she is auditioning for the best friend's role in a Hallmark movie. Whenever nacho comes on screen I want to scream, he is a skeez.

25. They show Harry's tiny makesft tent. To quell the glamping rumours.

26. Abigail Spencer and her bad extensions. Uffff!

27. There's some friend of hers called silver tree. Lol what? Who is this woman? I bet she is a stand in for Gina Nelthorp Cowne. Poor Gina, was ghosted but would have loved to do these interviews.

28. They are saying that initially it was much easier for her to come to London and stay at KP with him. And then they would drive to Windsor and walk around frogmore and have all this space and privacy without anyone ever noticing. So much privacy in london. Hmm.... The exact life they left behind. Weird (not!)

29. It's all bad media, intrusive media.

30. Pictures of the Halloween party, the night before the news of the relationship broke. Eugene's costume, yikes! Also, did they take permission from her to use these photos because she is a literal princess. The palace would and should protect her. (IMO)

31. Harry says, after the news broke, he didn't know what he was walking into. Lol poor dude never thought Meghan would be thriving on getting papped every where. She really did milk this opportunity and was probably acting all innocent in front of him. Because his concern seems genuine, her shock less so.

32. Some of the news headlines, articles, voiceovers they show here are not from this period. They are from.much later, before the wedding. Not from 2016 i remember back then everyone loved her. And she got a lot of positive press, esp in the UK.

...

—-

Thank you!!!

#submission

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the-empress-7 · 2 years ago

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Harry and meghan Ep1

Notes:

1. From the outset we are told this is a first hand account, using footage from their own archives. And members of BRF have declined to comment.

5. There is a LOT of footage of the kids. Basicat it's their iPhone gallery made into a movie with piano music.

7. Oh btw they met on Instagram. Lol new twist. And she got to know his through his ig feed. Lol. He is photographer ok guys. And he asked to meet her. So not a blind date.

8. They also show their private chats. URghhhh!

9. Harry is such a doofus. All he wanted was to get married and that's a bit creepy ok. It comes across as if he would have married anyone.

10. Nacho is there. URghhhh

13. Everybody who has ever spoken/written anything favorable about the couple is in this series. Noone who could present the other side. It seems a bit glaring.

This is the undertone that I think Meghan may have wanted to distance herself from.

15. When Harry talks about his childhood it does make a but of sense, esp with the skiing footage and Eug and Bea look overwhelmed.

16. He says what she shared in panorama was her experience and truth. Even if it was obtained in the wrong way.

24. Whenever Lindsay Roth speaks, I feel like she is auditioning for the best friend's role in a Hallmark movie. Whenever nacho comes on screen I want to scream, he is a skeez.

25. They show Harry's tiny makesft tent. To quell the glamping rumours.

26. Abigail Spencer and her bad extensions. Uffff!

27. There's some friend of hers called silver tree. Lol what? Who is this woman? I bet she is a stand in for Gina Nelthorp Cowne. Poor Gina, was ghosted but would have loved to do these interviews.

29. It's all bad media, intrusive media.

PS: these are just my first impressions. I do the same for ep2+3, provided I can sit through this nonsense for 2 more hrs.

====

Thank you so much for this. I have so many questions.

To start with, Harry's IG was private and incognito. So how exactly did she know whose. DM's to slide into?

#submission

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gimletagain · 2 years ago

Text

Harry and Meghan Netflix Ep1

Notes:

1. From the outset we are told this is a first hand account, using footage from their own archives. And members of BRF have declined to comment.

5. There is a LOT of footage of the kids. Basicat it's their iPhone gallery made into a movie with piano music.

7. Oh btw they met on Instagram. Lol new twist. And she got to know his through his ig feed. Lol. He is photographer ok guys. And he asked to meet her. So not a blind date.

8. They also show their private chats. URghhhh!

9. Harry is such a doofus. All he wanted was to get married and that's a bit creepy ok. It comes across as if he would have married anyone.

10. Nacho is there. URghhhh

13. Everybody who has ever spoken/written anything favorable about the couple is in this series. Noone who could present the other side. It seems a bit glaring.

This is the undertone that I think Meghan may have wanted to distance herself from.

15. When Harry talks about his childhood it does make a but of sense, esp with the skiing footage and Eug and Bea look overwhelmed.

16. He says what she shared in panorama was her experience and truth. Even if it was obtained in the wrong way.

24. Whenever Lindsay Roth speaks, I feel like she is auditioning for the best friend's role in a Hallmark movie. Whenever nacho comes on screen I want to scream, he is a skeez.

25. They show Harry's tiny makesft tent. To quell the glamping rumours.

26. Abigail Spencer and her bad extensions. Uffff!

27. There's some friend of hers called silver tree. Lol what? Who is this woman? I bet she is a stand in for Gina Nelthorp Cowne. Poor Gina, was ghosted but would have loved to do these interviews.

29. It's all bad media, intrusive media.

32. Some of the news headlines, articles, voiceovers they show here are not from this period. They are from much later, before the wedding. Not from 2016. I remember back then everyone loved her. And she got a lot of positive press, esp in the UK. She seems to out the responsibility of "protecting her" solely on him. Strange.

...

PS: I have shared this same on another blog (sassy). If you don't want to publish this please let know, I get it.

————-

thank you for this! honestly, I woke up at 4 am this morning thanks to my toddlers and scrolled dm with dread anticipating how much more crap the RF has to put up with. But there’s actually very little beyond the workings of a totally deranged narc who took iPhone videos of everything over the past 6 years. (Who the f does that? This isn’t normal.)

My jaw dropped reading Oprah and the reactions on my IG feed. It’s not like that now, at all.

#submission

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999-roses · 3 years ago

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on “dracula (the novel) is problematic”, “stop making dracula (the count) cute, he’s evil”, Victorian mores, and modern woes

dracula daily has really swept us up, huh? naturally we got anti’s with “discourse” such as “stop fetishizing Dracula, he’s evil and an abuser”, or “cancel the book, it disseminates caricatures of Othered identities and furthers xenophobia, homophobia, racism, antisemitism, orientalist tropes, etc”.

Traditional face-value reading of Dracula gets you a “good triumphs over evil” story, but thinking about questions like “who gets to tell the story” “what are the values of the characters who get to be the narrators, who are they and what do they represent in Victorian society” “why is evil personified in this way”, and in the historical context of the novel, gives you a host of more interesting, nuanced and valuable takes. (This is the premise of this whole post. warning: large wall of text, you are as always completely free to not engage)

And it is such a tragedy that Dracula still gets read as a straight (sorry for the pun) good-triumphs-over-evil story today. Like it or not, we’re still seeing facets of Dracula [the Count] as semitic, as foreign, as queer, and as Other, subconsciously or not -- and those are on purpose because those Othered identities were feared or hated by Victorians. Like, I get objection to uwubification and silliness, it’s a familiar tool to make violators or abusers seem not so bad, or objection that most of the popular posts display little critical lens on the text (valid, but like is anyone going to bother to read my wall of text? lol), but I think it’s really great that there are fan retellings of the story thru the lens of the titular character who doesn’t even get his own POV in the novel with his name on it. And so many more retellings where the female characters have agency, and retellings where van Helsing chooses not to kill the Count. And that emphasizes even more the original story, where all of the female characters are passive while the ideal masculine pillars of Victorian society, personified in affluent Western European men who are lawyer-real estate agent-solicitor, nobility inheritor of land/title/wealth, wealthy Texan (no doubt benefitting from Jim Crow era in his homeland), insane asylum director, and doctor-scientist, collude to erase the foreign, Eastern, queer, sexual, deviant and monstrous Vampire from existence and mainly for the sake of a woman’s “life” or virtuosity, so she will not go down the same path as unvirtuous, defiled, predator of children, "undead” Lucy, who they decapitated as well (Rest in Peace).

And to the rally of “Dracula the character is utter evil, you’re not allowed to make him silly or likeable, stop fetishizing him, it’s like people humanizing and thirsting for Ted Bundy”: to the first part, maybe the point is to deconstruct the notion of who or what is evil, and who is calling the shots about labeling evil? which is NOT like humanizing a real life serial killer.

Vampires -- creatures who must be confined to the night because sexuality, queerness, and otherness are not allowed to come out during Victorian virtuous daylight -- are vilified (by daywalker “proper” Victorians) to the point of it being factual that they are evil and sinister and kill people. It’s not a far echo away from the arguments that Eugenicists, contemporaries of the author Bram Stoker, were making about the people they wanted to Other, control, and eventually get rid of.

(To summarize, Eugenicists wanted to improve society by preventing “undesirable” people from reproducing. The movement picked up in popularity in the 1870s, a good 20 years before Dracula was published. Morons, imbeciles, weak etc were labels they put on the “undesirables” - not limited to: women who had sex out of wedlock “the promiscuous”, sexual deviants (from rapists to non-prudes to queers), colored people ranging from “savages” to Jews, disabled people, the debtor, the poor... sinners, all. The Eugenicists saw in these people the source of crime and societal ills, and sought to “humanely” remove them from the gene pool including using methods such as forced sterilization, instead of addressing their social or material conditions. To top it off, insane asylums were often places where many of “undesirables” (if they weren’t otherwise detained in jails or unlucky enough to not be born western european) were confined to and frequently the site where forced/involuntary sterilizations occurred. Later on in the 1900s, the Eugenics movement had an unsurprising thorough entanglement with the Nazis, and it’s clear to me that white supremacy has its roots in the same ideas as Eugenics. It’s unfortunately still relevant today, with right-wing media peddling the myth of the very much white supremacist “Great Replacement Theory” which runs parallel to xenophobic and anti-micegenation thinking.)

Maybe the identities that the privileged of a society deem unwanted or unsavory or disgusting to the point that it is wrapped up in a cape of all-encompassing evil, is just that - an exaggerated label, conflated true evils like rape or murder with deviancy or foreignness in one fell caste, to justify violence and destruction. And furthermore, the privileged classes of society use “science” and “rationality” like phrenology (racist skull profiling), actual profiling, law and order, social darwinism, and other caste frameworks aligned with the Eugenics movement to justify their condemnation on the Other, to give “evidence” of deformity or monstrosity. It is absolutely no coincidence that the gang who kill Dracula are the all the different sorts of person to support the Eugenics movement, particularly the “good” white immigrants ie the Texan and the Dutchman, as they would be deemed the “well-bred” benefactors that the movement considered “good breeding stock”, or “of good blood”.

Does it not echo the “arguments” from right-wing circles we are hearing today, labeling gay/trans people and supportive parents as “molesters”, “predators”, “groomers”, “abusers” or otherwise “defilers” of children? What does it say when "righteous voices” in our society are calling folks going about their non-orthodox lives “monsters” but call young men, nay, children defending white supremacy using guns “heroes”?

In the novel, the Count does not get a point of view, he can’t see himself reflected in a mirror, and he doesn’t have a Voice. What we the reader know about Dracula comes from the other characters’ recorded letters, dairies, etc, we do not know what he might have said to us directly -- about himself, about his world, about how he sees the other characters. Let people humanize the Count! It is not on par with real life serial killers. Reading about monsters in the horror genre is not the same as reading about a subjective character, subjective in nature like the other characters in Dracula are offered POV spotlights as subjects and not objects (well, the female characters are barely above that “object” threshold lol). Monsters of literary horror are not supposed to be people like you or I. Particularly, unlike those who get cast as “real monsters”, the real life serial killers 1) actually factually killed real (not fictional) people 2) the likes of Ted Bundy predated on specifically young women and yes used his conventionally attractive mug to do evil 3) the fetishized serial killers tend to be white cishet men, and their fanbases tend to further the narrative that white cishet men get to have their side of the story, get to be humanized rather than monster-ified, which already happens in our society. They get to plea mental illness, self defense clauses, defend their actions as “just their nature as a redblooded man [to do evil things to anyone underneath them in the social totem pole]”, claim that their bigotry is rational (sometimes even “publishing” manifestos on their “rationality”), or otherwise get to tell their story, instead of getting shot on sight, publicly ridiculed, or silenced, as the “Othered” who might challenge real irl Monsters do.

Yea, I’m reaching for my pitchfork now, cuz Dracula is putting forth ideas I as a modern person condemn now! Hold your horses - Bram Stoker was close friends with Oscar Wilde. Stoker started writing Dracula a month after Wilde’s libel trial in which Wilde was very publicly outed from the closet, lost the case resulting in bankruptcy, and then tried and found guilty in another case for sodomy and gross indecency - basically, being a queer deviant. Scholars note that this event made Stoker decide to (further) closet his nonconventional identity, enshrouding that part of himself in darkness as much as possible. There’s wider evidence to Stoker’s closeted status (linked a book below I’m waiting for my local library to lend me a copy, there are also scholarly publications on the topic as well). Dracula was published while Wilde was still serving his sentence of two years’ hard labor.

I tried to succinctly point the queer undercurrents (and very much internalized homophobia) in the book out to someone in a comment thread somewhere and was met with “>:( you’re saying that Stoker being a sad gay boy means racism and xenophobia etc is ok”. Thanks for jumping to conclusions, I was trying to make a point of being a terrified closeted man where your formerly close associate has been ripped out of the beneficia of high society specifically colors (and likely enhances the internalized homophobia in) the book produced by such an environment. Someone like that would be more sensitive to understanding the anxieties and phobias (not limited to homophobia) of their society, and would feel the need to understand how to blend in/uproot “evil’ in himself. In the book we can see this reflected in the triumph of Christian Victorian mores at the conclusion of Dracula. But I do not deny that Stoker absorbed the homophobic/xenophobic/antisemitic zeitgeist of his time. He absolutely did (that’s my verdict as a casual reader). It was like writing Dracula was a treatise to convince himself of the “right” path, literature as conversion therapy. Academics might have a different angle to this, how Stoker’s will to fit in with Victorian society, sexual repression ever heightened, shaped his worldview, and then distilled into Dracula. It’s clear to me that Stoker very much followed Eugenicist notions of his time, at the very least. He recognized he was queer and chose to only have one child (very rare for well-to-do Victorians), selecting himself out of the “gene pool” for fear of passing on his “bad blood”.

As this piece of literature as a foundational staple to the horror genre, I think it is important to understand the Victorian environment (historically, culturally, socially) of its origin, which enriches all the derivative works and particularly the subversions we see today. (And indeed, there’s a whole ‘nother discussion about the lasting cultural impact of Count Dracula, like how despite how all the characters tell us that he is a monster and we should shun and fear him, he has such a draw, and still fascinates and even arouses us still.)

anyway, I recommend further wider discourse in threads like this (I linked this earlier, it includes a book recommendation), James Somerton’s youtube videos about horror and queerness, book summary/spotlight for Something in the Blood: The Untold Story of Bram Stoker, regarding more thorough background into Victorian mores and queerness of Bram Stoker, here’s a great post about antisemitism and Dracula, here’s a podcast regarding antisemitism and eugenics in Dracula... and, of course, other meta discussions about the horror genre and its place as a literary tool for transgressive topics

#dracula discourse #dracula daily #welcome to my ted talk #blabs #long post #eugenics #dracula #i haven't delved too deep in the gay bits (overt and undertones) of dracula but there are some great posts out there compiling them #I'm also trying to get my hands on Something in the Blood from my library #ew james somerton. get fucked lmfao

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josefavomjaaga · 3 years ago

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By the end of November, Eugène, finally back in Milan with wife and daughters after the campaign of 1809 and that pesky revolt in the Tyrol, receives a curious letter from his imperial stepfather

November 26, 1809:

My son, I desire, if no major impediment prevents you, that you leave Milan so as to arrive in Paris on the 5th or 6th of December. Come alone with three carriages and four or five persons of your service of honour. Pass through Fontainebleau. This is assuming that major events do not prevent you from leaving.

For comparison: at the end of this post I’ve quoted the letter that Napoleon wrote four years earlier in order to … invite Eugène to his own marriage (»twelve hours at the latest after receiving this letter, you will depart with all speed [...]«). Let’s just say, this is an unusually timid and hesitating tone for Napoleon’s correspondence (it almost sounds as if he has a bad conscience). And because it is, I imagine that on this November day in Milan, not one but two heads are leaning over the paper, looking rather perplexed. Until Auguste claps her hands in excitement.

Auguste: »Oh my God! I think I know what this means!«

Eugène: »You do?«

Auguste: »He’s calling you to Paris in order to make you his heir! His heir to the throne of France!«

Eugène (who has already heard lots of rumours in Vienna, awkwardly): »Err… no, darling. I really don’t think so.«

Auguste: »No? But then surely he will finally make you King of Italy! You have done such great work here and you’ve helped him so much in the last war, he must reward you somehow!«

Eugène (forced smile): »Y-yes. That’s probably it, honey.« (gulps)

***

In the meantime, on the evening of November 30, Palace of the Tuileries, Paris. Dinnertime. Lots of people in fancy clothes standing in a half-circle. Emperor and empress are sitting at a table, occasionally poking at their plates, staring blindly ahead. Silence. A clock ticking in the background.

Napoleon (muttering): »What’s the time?« As nobody answers, a bit louder: »The time!«

Somebody answers, Napoleon stands up, so does Josephine.

Napoleon: »I need to talk to you, madame.«

Emperor and empress disappear through a door into Napoleon’s cabinet. Everybody else heads out of the room, except for Bausset, who is on duty and remains in the anteroom.

More clock ticking. Bausset yawns.

A piercing female scream from behind the closed door. Bausset whirls around. The door opens wide, Napoleon stands on the threshold, white as a sheet and utterly shocked.

Napoleon: »Bausset! You gotta come! The empress! Unwell! Help!«

Bausset and Napoleon hurry back into the room. Josephine lies on the carpet, motionlessly (and very decoratively draped, of course, because Josephine).

Napoleon (close to panic): »I just told her that I was going to divorce her. And then she kinda … dropped down. To the floor! Unconscious! Why do these things always happen? I had talked to her daughter before, she was supposed to have prepared her! And now she doesn’t move! What do we do now, Bausset?«

Bausset: »How about we take her downstairs to her own rooms, Sire?«

Napoleon: »Good idea! Then her ladies can take care of her. We’ll use the private stairs so nobody sees us. Let’s go. I’ll grab the legs, you take the upper half.«

***

A narrow, poorly lit stairwell. The steps are steep. Napoleon, his arms wrapped around Josephine's knees, impatiently carries his spouse down the stairs. Behind him, Bausset, not exactly slim and rather clumsy, struggles with Josephine's weight and his sword of honour, constantly scraping the wall or catching on the banister. Both men are puffing from exertion and agitation.

A look at Josephine's face. Her eyelids flutter imperceptibly.

Josephine (hissing softly): »Bausset!«

Bausset (stares open-mouthed).

Josephine (whispering): »Don't squeeze me like that!« (»faints« again).

Napoleon: »Are you doing all right back there, Bausset?«

Bausset (startled): »Oh, yes yes. All fine, Sire.«

***

A couple of days later. Young Louis Tascher, a relative of Josephine and aide-de-camp to Eugène, has been sent to the Tuileries from Italy in order to report on the progress made in pacifying the Tyrol. He has himself announced, is called up and steps over the threshold into Napoleon's audience chamber.

Napoleon (enraged): »Aha! Did Eugène send you to spy on me, eh?«

Tascher (flabbergasted): »Actually I was supposed to talk to Your Majesty about that Andreas Hofer guy, Sire ...«

Napoleon (embarrassed): »Oh. Oh, right. Anyway, that's not important now. Have you seen your cousin yet? I mean the Empress.«

Tascher: »N-no, I've only just got out of the carriage, the one still down there in the courtyard ...«

Napoleon: »Then see to it that you visit her at once!«

Tascher, utterly perplexed, is led through the Tuileries to the empress's appartment. The door opens, revealing a dozen richly dressed ladies, Josephine and Hortense among them, all of them sobbing into their handkerchiefs.

Tascher (uneasy): »Hello? Your Majesty? I've come from Milan, from Eug...«

Polyphonic sobbing.

Josephine: »Where is he? Why doesn't he come? Has everyone left me? Oh, I am the most unhappy woman in the world!« (More crying all around.)

***

Meanwhile, Eugene writes to his wife from the hospice on Mont Cenis that they are stuck in absolutely terrible weather. And that Caroline Murat has already crossed the mountain, headed for Paris, a couple of days before him. Not a good sign.

***

Again a little while later, in the Tuileries. Hortense has gathered around her those few members of the family still reasonably in tune with their senses: Tascher and Lavalette.

Hortense: »So, we are agreed. We absolutely must intercept Eugène and groom him before Napoleon gets hold of him and talks my dopey brother into this divorce at a bargain price. We don't know which road he'll take, so we split up. Tascher, you go to the right, Lavalette to the left, and I'll cover the main route via Nemours. Off you go!«

***

Next day, Nemours. Eugène's coach rolls into the courtyard of the local post station, where Hortense's carriage has already pulled up. The Queen of Holland and the Viceroy of Italy both step out of their respective vehicles, admired by some dozen teary-eyed spectators. It's the very first meeting of brother and sister after a separation of almost five years, there's hugs and air kisses all around, cheering and happy sighs by the audience. Then queen and viceroy both board Hortense's coach, and as soon as the door is closed and the carriage moving, they can start their conversation.

Eugène: »So. Is it good or bad?«

Hortense (wailing): »Baaad. It's the worst. It's the divorce.«

Eugène: »O god. - How does Mum take it?«

Hortense (exasperated): »Why, BADLY, of course!« (subtone: You insensitive dimwit of a brother!) »She's crying all the time and she says he can't do that to her and that she has been married in church and that the Pope will never allow it and that he at least must pay her debts and make you king of Italy and that she wants to keep her diamonds and that divorces aren't even allowed in the constitution, she has looked that up herself - and besides, if he gets to divorce our mother, why can't I also divorce Louis, huh?«

Eugène (staring into the off): »Sure, sure ...«

Hortense: »You must tell him, Eugène! You must tell him that he needs to give Mum at least a pension of some millions or she'll always be in debt, which of course she most likely will be anyway but do not tell him that, and he must give her Malmaison and a house in Paris and she also wants to keep her parrots and her dogs and go to Plombières every summer and if he really does this to us then the least thing he can do is to let me get rid of Louis. Do you understand?«

Eugène: »Uh-huh.« (mutters in despair) »How the hell am I going to explain this to my wife?«

___________

That’s the story of how Eugène learned about Napoleon’s decision to divorce Josephine, if you combine the memoirs of Hortense and Bausset and add some details from DuCasse’s publication of Eugène’s letters (and a little malignancy from myself). Unfortunately, it ends here, as there are no outside witnesses for the actual negotiations between the three Beauharnais and Napoleon, so we only have the official story of noble self-denial and generous renunciation. But I would have loved to be a fly on the wall during those discussions.

#napoleon #eugene de beauharnais #auguste of bavaria #josephine de beauharnais #hortense de beauharnais #bausset #louis tascher

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tangledgal · 5 years ago

Text

The Trial of Fitzherbert and Schnitz (a finished fanficiton)

After hearing the news of this lost episode, I was filled with so much disappointment. I thought about what this episode could’ve been if just a bit more care was put into finishing it, but unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. After awhile, I couldn’t take it anymore and just had to write up my own idea of what the plot synopsis of this episode would be like if it was finished.

It’s not perfect or professional and I’ve never really written anything like this before (at least publicly) but I did what I could to stick to the main outline for the story.

We start in Vardaros as Rapunzel is browsing through a craft shop named, “Mabel’s Crafts” with Lance and Eugene. As they are waiting to check out their things, Eugene and a slightly nervous Lance reminisce on their old adventures as little thieves in Vardaros, remembering how they (quite effortlessy) stole a ton of valuable figurines from this cranky shop owner. Suddenly, that same shop owner, Mabel, remarks how familiar those voices are. She wipes her glasses, sees the two men and immediately yells at them to leave, recognizing them as the infamous thieves. Rapunzel, using her charm, convinces the shop owner that they aren’t the same people they once were, and that they promise to do no harm. The shop owner is frustrated, but knowing how much busier and clean the city has been ever since Rapunzel and the gang came to town, she accepts this explanation and sells them their crafts. Eugene thanks Rapunzel, telling her that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Suddenly, Lance sees two familiar faces: Blade and Dagger, bullies from his and Eugene’s childhood. Terrified, Lance alerts Eugene and the two book it down an alley way to avoid the bullies. Rapunzel chases after them. After they think they have made it far enough, they realize that they have stumbled upon a certain building: their old orphanage. At first, the two are pleasantly surprised to be back at their old home, but as they take in their sights, Eugene notices a shattered window on the 2nd story. He solemnly tells Lance that he’s going back to the camp to start making dinner. Rapunzel, just catching up to them, notices a disturbed Eugene walking away, and asks Lance what’s going on. Lance tells her about the bullies and the orphanage. When Rapunzel suggests that seeing the orphanage is what’s hurting Eugene, Lance laughs nervously and walks off, causing Rapunzel to be suspicious.

Later back at the camp, all but one member of the group is present during supper. Rapunzel goes to check up on Lance inside the caravan, catching him fumbling nervously with a big list. Lance tries to hide the paper, but Rapunzel already sees that the list is full of apologies and other phrases with the word “sorry” written all over it. Shutting the door, Rapunzel forces Lance to come clean about what’s really wrong with Eugene. He tells her everything.

Cut to a flashback of a 9-year-old Lance sadly watching an 8-year-old Eugene excitedly pack his things. Eugene has just been adopted by a seemingly nice (and very wealthy) couple, the Holloways. He is absolutely ecstatic. Lance tries to be happy for him, but can’t help but feel heartbroken that his brother and closest friend is actually leaving. In a sad attempt to help, Lance heads towards their special hideout (a beautiful, grassy-green hill on top of a large cliff overlooking Vardaros with beautiful waterfalls falling down the side) to collect a few things for Eugene to take with him. Unfortunately, he is confronted by Blade and Dagger on the way. They chase Lance with a large spider and throw him into an empty barrel, planning to roll him down the wide streets of Vardardos into a mud pit. Just before they are able push the barrel, Eugene comes to the rescue by pulling the tail of a large horse, causing it to panic. The freaked-out horse charges its way towards the bullies and they run off terrified. Eugene gets Lance out of the barrel and Lance thanks him, remarking how he would’ve been a goner without Eugene. Suddenly, Lance spots a large, fancy carriage in the distance coming toward the orphanage. He knows that the couple is coming to adopt Eugene. Even worse, in the corner of his eye, he sees Blade and Dagger looking down every street and alley, clearly searching for him. Lance runs back towards the orphanage and climbs up the building’s walls to quickly escape the bullies. He climbs up to a closed window and, out of desperation, frantically breaks it open with a rock to get inside. He climbs through the shattered window and into the girl’s bedroom. The girls shriek and the headmistress (along with the just-arrived wealthy couple) march into the room. The mistress furiously asks who broke the window. A panicked Lance looks outside and sees Eugene. In a moment of panic and fear, he points out and says to the mistress and couple: “It was Flynn!”

The headmistress lets out a disappointed sigh, but the Holloways are appalled. They leave in a huff, exclaiming that they don’t want a rambunctious hooligan as a son. Just as they’re leaving, an excited Eugene spots them, but before he can get a word out, the carriage door shuts in front of him and he is left alone as it rides off. A relieved Lance jokingly remarks that Eugene didn’t need parents anyway, but the sobbing 8-year-old runs back into the orphanage. Relief and joy turn into deep regret.

Back in the present day, a guilty Lance tells Rapunzel that he’s been trying to apologize to Eugene ever since they came back to Vardaros, but he just can’t see it going well. He asks her if she has any advice for apologies. Rapunzel, desperate to help, flips the giant paper over and starts a new list with Lance of all the things Eugene loves. They spend the whole night coming up with an “apology day” that Lance can spend with Eugene in order to make his confession a little less harsh.

The next day, just as the sun is coming up, a sleeping Eugene is woken up by the caravan door slamming open. An excited Lance tells Eugene about their plans for the day. Eugene is suspicious as to why Lance is so upbeat after being so quiet the day before, but Rapunzel encourages him, telling him it’s going to be his best day ever. The two guys spend the day doing all kinds of things they loved to do as kids: sight-seeing, playing old childhood games, tree climbing, river rafting, watching a (very low budget) performance of “Flynn Rider and 6 Castles,” scavenger hunting (organized by Rapunzel) and other various activities. They end the day having a picnic at their old hideout on the hill. As Lance fries up a steak, Eugene remarks how he feels like a kid again after the day they had. Lance agrees, saying how different their lives would’ve been if either had actually been adopted. Eugene uncomfortably laughs, trying to change the subject by saying how lucky they were to not run into Blade and Dagger during their day. Lance jokingly mentions that he might’ve had to break into the orphanage again if that happened. Eugene freezes. He sternly asks what Lance means. Lance fumbles, looking for a way to change the subject, but ultimately confesses their childhood incident. Eugene is furious. He rants about how he had a feeling their outing had strings attached and how Lance ruined his one chance at having a family all because he was a coward. As Eugene angrily mounts Fidella, he bitterly remarks how all Lance has done his entire life is use Eugene for himself, and he won’t let that happen again. Eugene rides back to the camp. A guilty Lance sits in silence, unsure if Eugene will ever talk to him again, but suddenly, Blade and Dagger appear right behind him with a “welcome home” present.

Back at the camp, Eugene rants to Rapunzel. Rapunzel tries to bring up all the fun things he did with Lance, but Eugene is still furious, heartbroken, and unsure if he could ever forgive his so-called “buddy.” Rapunzel agrees that forgiving others can be hard, but in hindsight, sometimes poor choices can lead to good things. Right as Eugene is about to snap back, he bumps into a paper frame dangling from a tree. He takes a look at it, recognizing it to be a lantern. He then catches sight at something near the caravan: a giant bag full of colorful lanterns varied with different designs and shapes. A melancholy Rapunzel explains that her plan was to put them up around Varadaros while the guys were having their picnic so they could see the city glow like it used to. Rapunzel lights up a cylinder lantern, and Eugene can’t help but remember the night he and Rapunzel first confessed their love. Eugene realizes what he might’ve missed out on if Lance hadn’t broken that window. Suddenly, Max comes racing back, alerting them of Lance.

Eugene and Rapunzel follow Max to the same hill Lance had their picnic. Once they arrive: they see a terrifying sight: Blade and Dagger have tied up Lance and put him into a (bigger) barrel, and this time, are planning to push him off a cliff into a valley with black rocks as sharp as ever. Rapunzel tries to use her charm to get through to the bullies, but neither are moved as they are more focused on finishing off their old childhood “friend.” Just as Lance is about to be thrown off by Blade, Max charges towards him and kicks him away from Lance, unfortunately sending him rolling straight down the hill. Just as Lance is about to fly off the edge, Rapunzel uses her hair to catch him. She gets him out of the barrel and back on land. Once his ties are undone, they mount Max and just as Eugene runs to get on the horse, Dagger tackles him. Eugene pulls out his sword and the two fight their way into a cave. Lance follows after them to save Eugene, but Blade follows Lance, noticing a large bolder conveniently right above the entrance to the cave. He chucks a smaller rock at the bolder, causing it to fall over the entrance, blocking Rapunzel and Max from entering.

As Lance is following after Eugene and Dagger, he stops in his tracks, petrified by a giant spider web with dozens of spiders right in front of him. Blade knocks Lance to his feet, effortlessly cuts the web, and taunts him about how after all these years, he’s still afraid of spiders. Blade also tells Lance not bother chasing after them since even if he does rescue Eugene, he’s never going to be forgiven anyway. Dagger and Eugene continuing fighting their way down the cave. They reach a hollow space and Dagger spots an opening in the cave, planning to push Eugene down one of the huge waterfalls. Eugene does his best to fight in another direction, but ends up being cornered right at the edge of the large opening. Eugene looks down to see nothing below him but the river with black rocks menacingly pointing up. Dagger pins Eugene down on the edge, knowing that with one push, Eugene would fall to his death. He taunts him about having to die without a real family, but a smug Eugene, eyeing a familiar figure right behind Dagger, repeats Rapunzel’s words about how poor decisions can lead to good things. Confused, he turns around and suddenly, Lance, covered in cob webs, knocks out the bully with the frying pan.

Lance pulls Eugene off the edge and they both laugh, realizing how crazy their “best day ever” ended up being. Eugene then hears Rapunzel call out to the guys from atop the cliff. She lets down her hair and Eugene and Lance each pick up an unconscious bully on their shoulder as Rapunzel pulls them up to safety. As they’re being pulled up, Eugene remarks how he’s proud of Lance for overcoming his fear of spiders, only for Lance to see a spider on his frying pan, dropping it in a panic. The pan falls and lands on the edge of the river in front of a wealthy rich couple, known by others as the Holloways.

With the bullies locked up, Rapunzel and the gang set up lanterns around Vardaros just as the sun is setting. Rapunzel frantically takes Eugene over to the orphanage to hang up some more lights when he sees a pleasant surprise: the once broken window is fixed. Lance appears and tells Eugene that he knows what he ruined for him and that he’s never been sorrier in his life over what he did. In response, Eugene says Lance was right: their life as kids would’ve been different if they were adopted: He would’ve never become the infamous Flynn Rider, would’ve never been jailed with his best friend, would’ve never had the guts to leave Stalyan, would’ve never had so many memorable and amazing heists, would’ve never met the love of his life, would’ve never gotten back at the Baron, and would’ve never become Eugene Fitzherbert, the man he is today. He jokes how if the couple had raised him, he probably would’ve been a rich snob with a stupid name like “Horace.” Lance holds out his fist for a fist bump, but Eugene hugs Lance instead. The guys make up and Rapunzel puts the last lantern near the (now fixed) window.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #the trial of fitzherbert and schnitz #yeah there's still flaws with the bullies being 1 dimensional and the rest of the gang members just not showing up for the final fight #also how this whole things sounds incredibly similar to return of the king #but i did my best #fanfiction

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